


Language!

by wallashoom



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Cages, Cussing, Escape, Huey Duck has the Duck Family Temper, Kidnapping, Let The Boy Swear, Louie Duck-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective Donald Duck, Swearing, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29218965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallashoom/pseuds/wallashoom
Summary: Donald had made it a point when the triplets were younger to never,ever, swear. Huey and Dewey followed this rule for the most part (they had their slip ups, but that was uncommon), but Louie on the other hand...
Relationships: Bentina Beakley & Louie Duck, Della Duck & Louie Duck, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Dewey Duck & Louie Duck, Donald Duck & Louie Duck, Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Launchpad McQuack & Louie Duck, Louie Duck & "Glittering" Goldie O'Gilt, Louie Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	1. Swear Jar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Huey insists they get a swear jar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louie just,,,,, says a bunch of bad words. Huey is not a fan of it.

Louie was tired. He’d been sitting at his desk for an hour with his history homework in front him and empty scheme ideas crumpled around it. He huffed, rubbing his temple. He was so close to just leaving it and turning it in incomplete. It was a simple homework grade; it meant nothing in hindsight. His quizzes and tests would make up for it. 

Though, did he really want a grade less than fifty? He didn’t like seeing low numbers on his report card or in the gradebook and he knew Donald and Della didn’t like seeing it either. He didn’t want to disappoint either of them more than he already has. 

The green-clad duck flipped through the textbook again, looking for that one specific word that would answer any of the questions on the paper. He’d answered three of the seventeen, but only because he’d known them off the top of his head. 

Finding nothing, Louie groaned and slammed the book on the floor. “Fuck!” He exclaimed, frustrated. He hit his head against the desk. “Fucking piece of shit book,” and again, “good for nothing cunt, fuckin’ hellish bullshit,” his desk-hits became more agressive, “fucking… motherfff- _other words that I can’t think of_!” His head sat there on the paper for a few moments, a headache already in the making. 

_‘I can’t…’_ Pushing himself away from the desk, he let his feet touch the ground. _‘I need a pep or something… and maybe an ibuprofen.’_ He swiveled around, only to be met with the shocked (or was it offended? He looked offended) Huey who had been on his bunk reading a book.

“Oh shit.” Louie mumbled under his breath. How long had he been there? He stood, ignoring the look his brother was giving him. “Hey, Hue.”

Huey was quiet.

“Huey?”

Blinking, the oldest triplet was brought back to reality. “Wh- _language_ , Louie!” He sounded so much like Donald.

Yeah, he definitely witnessed the youngest’s angry breakdown. “Sorry.” Louie offered dryly. 

Deeply sighing, Huey closed his book and hopped off his bunk. “ _This_ is why I told Uncle Donald we needed a swear jar!”

“...we don’t need one, though.”

Huey stared at him, bewildered. “What? Did- did you _hear_ yourself just a few minutes ago?!”

“Yeah.”

The red-dressed one blinked at him again. “Is this normal?! Do you swear all the time?!”

“Jeez, relax Hue. You say that as if you don’t.”

“Not normally!”

“When you’re mad.” 

“Yeah, but not like that! I drop maybe one f-bomb, but that’s _it_!”

Louie huffed. His headache was getting worse. “Whatever. I’m gonna go get a pep and some medicine for this stupid headache.”

Before he could leave though, Huey grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Huey, seriously, my head really hurts.”

“I know. You banged it against the table.” Huey dragged his brother over to his bedside and sat him down. He opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a makeshift first-aid kit.

“It’s fine, Huey.” Louie insisted. “I just need a pill or whatever.”

“I’m still checking for a concussion.”

“I didn’t hit my head _that_ hard.”

“Still checking.” He put both hands on Louie’s head, moving his feathers around. It annoyed the younger one because _that’s his perfect hair he’s messing up_ , but he allowed his brother to check. It wasn’t like Huey was going to let him walk out of the room unchecked anyway.

“And,” Huey added, feeling Louie’s forehead, “we’re the Duck family. We’re stronger than we think. Especially you.”

“Mhm,” Louie didn’t believe him for a second. He wasn’t an adventurer, much less a fighter. He was the weakest link and he’d made enough peace with that. “Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious. Did you see yourself when we were stuck in that TV show?”

“We were in a TV show. Stuff like that- stuff we normally can’t- happens all the time.” 

Huey frowned at him but didn’t press on. “You feel okay?”

“Other than a massive ache in my head, yes. Can I go now?”

“Only if you promise to stop swearing.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Louie crossed his arms as Huey put the kit away. “They’re literally just words.”

“It’s a big deal to me!” Huey hopped onto Louie’s bunk. “We’re kids! We shouldn’t be using that kind of language!”

“Says who?”

“Says society!”

“Fuck society.” Louie said with a small grin.

Huey gasped. “Louie!”

“I’m just a kid trying to live his life, _Hubert_.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m going to finally get that ibuprofen. This shit is killing me.”

“That’s it, I’m making my own swear jar.” Huey stood and swiftly walked to the closet. “We have a jar somewhere, right?”

“Nope.” Louie huffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Don’t bother looking. We don’t need a swear jar. Besides, what’re we gonna do with all the coins that will inevitably end up in it? It’s not like we have a big allowance.”

“We could give it to Uncle Donald.”

“Would Uncle Donald really want a bunch of coins? We get a nickel a week.” Louie leaned against the door. “And if you want me to put a nickel in a jar every time I say a certain word, then… hm, let me do the math…” He looked at his hand as if he had nails. “Oh yeah, you’d bankrupt me.”

“You bankrupt yourself already.” Huey shuffled through more of the closet’s contents.

“Eh,” Louie looked to the hallway. “Anyway, I’m gonna go now.”

Huey might’ve said something else, but Louie hadn’t listened. He wanted this headache gone or at the very least less painful. The con artist hissed in pain as his head throbbed. “Goddammit… why do I resort to hurting myself when I get mad?” He leaned against a wall, catching his breath.

“You’ve seen better days.” 

Louie glanced up to see Mrs. Beakley, vacuum in hand.

“This _is_ one of my better days.” The duckling snarked. In terms of injuries, that statement was actually true. He was always the one that had sustained major wounds during adventures. It wasn’t like he’d tell anyone about those, though. As far as they knew, he just got fatigued and light scratches. 

“Do you know where all the medications are?” He already knew the answer, but he didn’t know where his lockpick was so fishing for keys was the best option here.

Beakley’s brow quirked up. “Why do you need to know?”

“Headache.”

“Oh.” Beakley’s expression returned to the usual one she wears. “In one of the spare bathrooms, there is a designated medical cabinet. It will be locked, so…” The woman pulled an assortment of keys out. She unhooked a small key off of the chain and handed it to the younger duck. “You are to return it to me after you’re done.”

“Yes, Mrs. B.” Key in hand, the duckling scurried off. He knew exactly which one of the bathrooms had all the pills and medications. 

Entering, he scanned the area to make sure it was empty and quickly spotted the cabinet. A grin formed on his face as he inserted the key. He twisted it and the glass doors swung open. Without any hesitance, Louie gripped a thicker orange bottle. He turned it over and read the label. 

‘Ibuprofen’ 

A relieved smile formed on his beak. He popped the bottle open and downed two pills easily. “Okay,” Louie breathed, putting the cap back on and returning the bottle. “Back to the history homework.”

Louie exited the room after locking the cabinet back up. As he headed towards his room, he tossed the key back to Beakley, who caught it without even looking up. 

Placing a hand on the door to his room, he heaved a sigh. “I don’t wanna do this bullshit…” He could always just not do it. But then there was the zero in the gradebook. Louie hated numbers sometimes.

He pushed the door open to see a jar sitting on the bedside table and Huey hovering over Louie temporarily abandoned homework.

“Huey?”

The other duck perked up at the mention of his name. “Oh, hey Louie.” His focus returned to the sheet.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at your homework.” 

“I can see that. But _what are you doing_? You have that detective face going on.”

“Oh, that’s what you meant…”

Louie approached, now seeing the textbook open. “Are you planning on helping me or something?”

“Do you want me to? I mean, clearly you don’t know the answers and the pages you were given aren’t going to help.”

“What do you mean?”

Huey’s face and voice went to a deadpan. “The teacher gave you the wrong pages to look at.”

Louie felt his eye twitch for a moment. “So I wasn’t going insane.” He maneuvered his way over to his brother and the work that made him needlessly stress for over an hour. 

With his face as serious as it could be, Louie jabbed his finger into the paper. “Fuck. You.”

The younger duckling heard the older one make a sound of surprise. “That’s a nickel for the swear jar.”

“We do not have a swear jar.”

“We do now.” Huey pointed at the jar on the bedside table. Louie pretended like he hadn’t seen it yet.

“I’m not putting a nickel in there.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes. You are.”

“No. I’m not.” Louie sat in the chair and picked up his pencil, tapping the eraser against the desk.

“Fine. I’ll take one of your nickels and put in there myself.”

“Okay. I’ll just take it back.” He saw how Huey glared at him. “What? It’ll be for charity.” He cheekily grinned at his brother.

Huey’s eyes narrowed furthered for a moment before the boy deeply sighed. That infamous Duck temper was starting to make itself known. “Just put a nickel in the jar.”

“Hmmm-” Louie put a hand to his chin and spent a few moments pretending to be in thought. “-mmmm… no.”

“Louie,”

Louie just gave him the bird, causing the other to try to get a handle on his temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louie: **bad word**  
>  Huey: **_G A S P_**


	2. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The triplets have been captured and must find a way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got off-plot,,, where's all the swearing???

Dewey rammed his shoulder into the bars again, coming back with more pain than progress.

“Dewey, stop,” Huey exasperated. “You’re only getting yourself hurt.”

“So?” Dewey breathed. “We need to get out of here; you heard what those guys said they were going to do to us! Do you want to be some soldier for a dumb army? I don’t!”

“I don’t either!” Huey exclaimed. “But _this_ isn’t doing anything! We have to calm down and wait for Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge and Mom.”

“We can’t do that.” Louie spoke up from the corner. “We can’t just sit here. If we do that, they’re going to come back and then we’ll have nothing.” He leaned back against the cold, metal bars. “So Duck boys, what do we got?”

With a heavy huff, Dewey collapsed to the ground, his leg propped up and a hand on his shoulder. “Using brute force isn’t getting us out.”

“We’re too isolated from anything to use to get out…” Huey’s eyes glanced over to Louie.

“They took my lockpick.” Louie sighed. “And my phone. And my rubber bands.” 

“What about your backup?” Dewey pointed to the carefully combed tuft of feathers on his brother’s head.

“First thing I checked.” The green one shook his head. “Took everything.”

“Crap.” Dewey let his head fall back against the metal. “This sucks.”

“Yeah,” Huey agreed. “It seems the best chance we have is waiting for our family…” He put a hand to his head. “But who knows how long that’ll take.”

“Maybe not long.” Louie shrugged. His brothers looked at him quizzically. Despite the anxiety bubbling in his stomach from the sudden eyes on him, his poker face remained. “After the bet stuff and Uncle Donald coming back, he insisted that my phone be tracked. Probably in fear of bad guys kidnapping me.”

Huey glared at him. “And because of your habit of disappearing and not telling us where you went.”

“Maybe.” Louie looked to a random corner of the dark room they were in. “Anyway, the point is, if those guys didn’t destroy my phone, there’s a chance our family is already on their way.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and fiddled with his fingers. “But if they checked us and got rid of everything, then I wouldn’t put it past them to have cucked my phone.”

Huey’s glare hardened.

“Not a swear.”

“It’s a bad word.”

Louie returned his brother’s glare with an ‘are you serious’ glare. “Hubert, please, we could die in a matter of minutes. Let me express my thoughts.”

“We’re not dying here.” 

“Are we dying on the ceiling of this cage, then?”

“No!”

“Ceiling…” Upon hearing the word, Dewey looked up.

“There’s literally nothing you can do with the roof of this thing.” Louie halfheartedly chided.

The blue brother pouted, quickly seeing that the statement was true. “Then what are we supposed to do?!”

“I don’t fuckin’ know.”

The forbidden ‘f’ word caught the other ducks attention. 

Huey opened his mouth for a scold, but Louie used his hand to clamp the red brother’s beak shut. “Uh uh, don’t. I have free speech.”

Dewey tilted his head to the side. “Hey, Hue, what if you use the Duke of-”

“ _No_.” 

Dewey puffed his cheeks out and he fell back, once again out of ideas. He opened his mouth. “What if…” He paused and shook his head. 

“What?”

“I was going to say, ‘what if you bite your way out?’, but that’s stupid.”

Huey blinked. “Who was that directed at?”

“Probably me.” Louie hummed. “I bit the shit out of one of the Beagle Boys once.”

“Was that why Bouncer had all those bite marks in his neck?”

“Yeah,” The youngest held a wry grin. “The bitch tried to grab me so I bit him.”

“That’s fifteen.”

“Huey, stop with the swear jar.”

Dewey looked between his brothers. “We have a swear jar?”

Louie said “no” at the same time Huey said “yes”.

“...why?” The middle child was utterly confused.

“Louie here won’t stop swearing.” Huey explained, earning an annoyed groan from the mentioned brother. 

“I don’t see the point of a swear jar. Everyone slips up.”

“You weren’t there in our bedroom that day! He sounded like Uncle Donald that night when he thought we were asleep and he dropped the heavy plate on his foot.”

Dewey cringed at the memory and gave his younger brother a side glance. “You’ve cursed like that before?”

“Yeah.” Louie responded cooly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“I- well… nothing, really, but… I don’t know, I think people in their mid-teens should say that kind of stuff… not… uh, _us_.”

“Thank you!” Huey exclaimed. 

“I don’t think a swear jar is necessary, though.”

Huey crossed his arms.

“Thank you, Dewford.” Louie grinned, happy at his slight victory. 

The three fell into a silence.

Louie stared off in the darkness, Dewey tapped his fingers against the bottom of the cage, and Huey desperately thought of a way to get out of the cage.

It wasn’t long before the door to the room opened up and a tall and menacing komondor walked in.

All three boys felt their nerves rising. It was over. That dog was going to load the boys into a ship and fly off to who-knows-where to become young soldiers for some dumb war they didn’t ever want to be a part of.

They’d never see anyone they loved again.

The canine lifted the cage up with a single hand and Dewey immediately started hitting the bars. “LET US OUT!” He screamed.

The komondor said nothing as he exited the room and began down the hall. 

Dewey kept screaming. “Just wait until my uncles and mom get here! You’re going to be so sorry! You pathetic whelp!”

The dog swung the cage against the wall, flinging the boys into the metal bars. Huey and Dewey’s bodies had slammed against their younger brother’s, effectively crushing him.

“ _Shit_ -” Louie groaned, feeling the wind being knocked out of him and the already existing wounds on his back being pressed.

“Sorry, sorry!” Huey scrambled back, stammering apologies. 

Dewey returned to yelling at the dog, his grip on the bars becoming tighter as they passed through rooms.

Louie stared ahead of him, blinking a few times for his vision to become clear again. 

Then he saw it. 

Somewhere in his fur were a couple of keys. One probably unlocked the cage they were in. Now, if only he could… 

Sucking in a breath, the green-clad duck reached a hand through the bars. His fingers just barely touched the komondor’s fur. 

“Stupid bitch!” The middle triplet shouted, causing the dog to hit the cage against the wall again. This time, it was to the other side of the cage.

But neither Dewey nor Louie moved from their spot. 

Louie hissed, his arm burning from getting jerked by the sudden movement of the cage. There was definitely going to be a bruise there… 

He tried again, hand getting a little further. He could feel the skin around his armpit stretching uncomfortably. God, he hoped this was worth it.

His fingers grazed over the keys. Closer. He narrowed his eyes, trying to read what each key said. He noticed the variety of the keys. Eyes narrowing, he brought his hand back and looked around for the lock. Louie spotted it on the cage wall farthest away from the dog.

With haste, the avian crawled to the lock, pressing his head against the bars to get the best look he could at it. From the corner of his eye, he could see Huey looking at him curiously. 

Inspecting it, Louie could tell that it was a… dimple lock? Really? He turned his head to look at the keys and could just barely see a short key jumbled with the others. 

Huey seemed to follow his gaze and saw the keys as well. The brothers made eye contact and nodded at each other just when Dewey said something else that pissed the canine off. 

The cage slammed against the wall again, probably tearing one of Louie’s wounds open. Oh well, it’s not like he could worry about that now.

“Dewey stop!” Huey huffed, rubbing at his shoulder.

“No!” Dewey shouted back. “This guy is going to let us out and if I have to verbally abuse him, I will!”

Huey sighed deeply. “Isn’t it obvious that this isn’t working? It’s better to just give up.”

“Give up?” Dewey gawked. “What do you mean ‘give up’? We’re Ducks! We’re related to Scrooge McDuck; we don’t do that!”

“But nothing’s working!” At this point, Louie had made it back to his spot, arm starting to slip through the bars.

Dewey saw what Louie was doing and was about to open his mouth to comment on it when Huey quickly shut him up by grabbing his wrists. “We don’t have a choice!” He stared intensely at his brother, making side glances to Louie. 

Dewey got the message. “I- um…” The blue-clad child’s eyes searched his surroundings, no doubt trying to come up with some kind of improv. Finally, he sighed deeply. “Fine.” He stated tersely. “Fine. We can just give up.” His tone was a bit aggressive, but his face wasn’t at all. He plopped onto the ground, making the sound known. 

“I know you don’t want to give up.” Huey kneeled. “But there’s nothing we can do.”

Louie’s fingers found the keys again. Turning his head so he could completely see the different types. _‘No… no… that’s a… keycard? That might be important… no… no… no- ah!’_ Towards the edge, a shorter key hung. There were small dimples on the- yeah, that was the dimple key for the dimple lock.

But it was too far away. _‘Goddammit.'_ He tried to reach further, but found that he just couldn’t.

Behind him, he heard a gasp. “Louie!” 

The youngest duck quickly yanked his hand back, fearing that maybe the dog had seen him. When everything of his was back within the wall of the cage, he was only met with concerned looks and no dog staring at him.

“...what?”

“Your back.” 

Oh.

Louie felt his back, feeling a trail of blood. _'It opened.’_ He remembered. “Fuck.”

“Let me see it,” Huey began moving towards him and Louie instinctively flinched back. “Louie, please.”

Louie shook his head and turned around, arm stretching out again. He wanted out _now_. He didn’t need his brothers to see all the wounds and scars he’d garnered throughout all their escapades. 

It wasn’t long before he felt what was probably Huey’s hands lifting his hoodie up. 

Louie’s fist closed as the air hit every single injury he had. 

“Oh my go…” 

“Louie…” He could hear Dewey moving over from his spot on the other side of the cage.

Actually giving up, Louie pulled his arm back in and leaned his forehead against the bar in front of him.

“How long have you had these?” Huey tentatively touched a white ridge that ran across the middle of his younger brother’s back, only lifting when the open gash crossed the ridge.

Louie shrugged halfheartedly. “...the one that’s bleeding is probably from that one time with the giant fish monster thing…”

“The one with the hook? Louie, you said you were fine!”

“Well, I lied!” Louie spoke before either brother could say anything else. “I always lie about that kind of stuff! I’m always getting hurt, why does it suddenly matter now?”

“Because these are serious!”

“And all the others weren’t?”

“Those ones didn’t bleed and wouldn’t scar!” 

Louie shook his head. “Whatever, it doesn’t fucking matter.” Venom seeped in his words.

“Yes, it does.” Huey stood and rushed to the side of the cage. “Hey, sir, my brother needs medical attention.”

“No, I don’t!” Louie sighed. “I just… I can tough this out- I always have.”

Huey only glared at him before turning his attention back to the dog. “Sir, please.”

The canine said nothing.

“My brother needs-” His request was only met with the cage colliding with the wall. “You- I…” The eldest’s eye twitched, his iris becoming red for a brief moment. “ _Excuse me_ , my brother needs-”

Another hit. 

“My-” Huey’s voice was becoming progressively more angry.

Before the dog could throw the cage against the wall again, Dewey ran over to his brother and pulled him back. 

Huey pushed Dewey away. “What are you doing?!”

“Stopping you from giving all of us brain damage!”

“I’m trying to get Louie help!”

“And it’s not working!”

Louie tuned the conversation out, deciding to try one last time. As he flipped his body around, he saw small spots of blood on the bar. He huffed, already moving his hand out. He went through the motions, once again only able to brush over the tip of most of the keys.

Then they stopped moving.

“I said stop it, you brats.” Louie slowly turned as the cage was set onto the ground. The fluffy dog crouched in front of the bars and it was then that Louie realized that his brothers’ fight had become physical at some point.

Huey pushed himself off of Dewey. “We’ll stop when you give my brother,” He gestured towards Louie, “some medical attention!”

The dog rubbed his temple. “And what’s wrong with him?”

“His back is bleeding.”

“Can I see?”

Huey looked over to Louie, who reluctantly obliged. He turned and lifted his hoodie a bit. When he heard the dog sigh, he figured it was enough and let the clothing go.

The komondor walked to the other side of the cage. “Come here.” 

Standing, Louie trudged over to the gate. 

All three brothers watched as the dog pulled a short key with dimples on it. Louie felt a small smile tug on his beak as it was confirmed which key opened the lock. 

The gate was opened, but only big enough for Louie to step out. 

So he did.

Dewey moved to rush out, but Huey put his arm out and silenced anything he was going to say with a single glare.

The gate was shut and the dog gripped Louie’s wrist roughly. 

“Ow,” Louie mumbled, knowing it was going to bruise. 

“Hey, where are you taking him?!” Dewey shouted as the two left.

The last thing Louie heard was Huey explaining that they were taking him to get help, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The child was taken through multiple doors and hallways, everything looking the same. For the most part, anyway. Some rooms had dark orange walls, some had white. Some were wooden walls, some were brick. Some rooms had carpet, some had tile. 

_‘This place is huge…’_

The only thing Louie paid attention to was the signs that stated what rooms were what. Most were numbered; like a classroom. Others had specific names, like “planning” or “conference”. It reminded Louie of the halls of Scrooge’s business. 

Oh, he missed when it was just an evil robot chasing him through those halls.

At some points, the komondor took his keycard and scanned it on a reader. 

Eventually, they arrived at what was stated to be the infirmary. The dog opened the door and pulled the duck inside. Louie tried his best to ignore all the things going around him (probably surgeries and people on the edge of death). 

After what was maybe a couple minutes and tons more of people, the dog stopped and finally let go. Louie massaged his wrist, smoothing out the feathers around the forming bruise. 

“Stay.” 

Louie observed as the dog leaned over a desk, writing something down. Despite being told to stay, Louie strolled over and hopped onto the desk, looking at the paper that was being written on. “What’s that?” There were a ton of boxes. 

“Every patient has to have a record.”

“Ah.” Louie fell back to the ground. “You gonna need anything from me? Like information, or…?”

“No.”

Louie slowly nodded, wondering if it was just unnecessary or if the dog knew everything about him. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. _‘What a shitty situation.’_ He noticed a raven sitting with a similar paper. Glancing at the dog, he made his way over to the woman. “Hey, is that one of those papers?”

“Yes?”

“Cool, uh, how long have you been filling that out for?”

The raven blinked at him. “About ten minutes now, why?”

_‘Ten minutes…’_ Louie groaned. “Ugh, ten minutes? I’m gonna be so bored.”

To his surprise, the raven actually smiled. “Aw, hey, there’s a TV over in the next room. It doesn’t play cartoons or anything, but it can be a distraction.” She chuckled almost… sadly. “My daughter hates waiting rooms.” The raven looked back to her paperwork.

Louie slowly backed away. 

He had at least ten minutes. Maybe less than that. The duck looked to the door, then to the key ring. As far as he was concerned, he only needed the keycard and the dimple key, though stealing the whole thing wouldn’t be a bad idea.

With no other option (other than wait, but that wasn’t an option), Louie cautiously approached the dog, being careful in his steps. He’d become rather good at sneaking around, though taking things that weren’t his was not his strong suit.

He tiptoed behind the dog and hesitantly reached out. Right before he touched the key, he realized, _‘They’re going to be so loud…’_ He couldn’t just take them.

His eyes darted around. A distraction, that’s what he needed. 

_‘There was a TV over there, right?’_ The duck wobbled over to another room, the pain in his back finally making itself known.

The TV was off and the remote was sitting on the ground in the middle of a fuzzy rug in the center of the room. 

Louie grabbed it and found the power switch. This would be enough, right? He glanced over at the canine who barely paid him a glance.

_‘Okay…’_ Louie narrowed his eyes as he turned back to the small TV. He turned the volume up by a single square. 

Still nothing.

So he turned the volume up more.

“Turn it down!” The dog called over. 

Louie didn’t. In fact, he did the opposite. 

The duck heard the faint sound of the pen drop. 

“I said, turn it down!” The dog glared at the boy who was holding the remote.

“I don’t know how!” Louie cried, trying to make it seem as real as possible.

The dog huffed, angry, and roughly took the remote from the duck. While the dog was distracted, Louie carefully put his hands on the keys. He used both hands to unhook the ring, praying the komondor didn’t notice. 

He didn’t seem to, but Louie knew the moment he moved the keys would jingle and he’d be caught. 

Thinking quickly, Louie moved slightly so he was to the side of the canine. He carefully lifted the keys into his pocket and held them there. After he knew they were secure enough, he looked back up at the dog. The volume was almost to a quiet level, so Louie decided to pretend to knock into the remote.

The remote slid across the floor and the dog turned to glare at the child, teeth bared. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m so sorry, sir. I tripped.”

The komondor growled. “Why do I even put up with you?” He walked across the room, grumbling the whole way there.

Seeing the opportunity, Louie slipped away, being meticulous to not make a single sound to alert the dog of his departure. He made sure to be quick though. A simple pick up of a remote couldn’t take that long. 

Once he was at the door, Louie fumbled around with the keys until he found the keycard. He lifted it up to the scanner, straining a bit. The reader beeped and the door opened. 

And Louie found himself running.

_‘Turn here, turn here, turn here… turn- no, wait, wrong room!’_ He hoped he’d remembered the layout. 

He briefly had a thought about why the place was so empty.

Soon, rooms became familiar. He was getting closer. He turned into another hall and recognized the door. His brothers should be behind that. 

He pushed the door open without much hesitation and smiled widely when he saw his brothers still in the cage. 

They both perked up at his entrance.

“Louie! Are you okay?” Huey wrapped his fingers around the metal bars, concern painted on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, I am.” The green-clad brother pulled the key ring out. “We’re getting out of here.”

Dewey cheered. “Awesome!”

“Uh huh. Hush.” Louie filed through the keys, quickly being able to find the dimple key. He plunged the key into the lock and opened it, Dewey barreling out of the cage and stretching immediately. 

Huey was eager, but not as much as his immediate younger brother. “They fixed you up, right?”

“No.” Louie answered honestly. He saw Huey's face twist into one of anger, so he explained. “Listen, I saw my opportunity to take the keys and I did. You can fix all that shit on my back up when we get home. But right now, we gotta go.”

Huey breathed through his nose. “Fine, fine. Getting out of this place is the most important thing right now, you’re right.” He looked around. “How do we get out?”

“I didn’t see an exit anywhere that way.” Louie pointed behind him with his thumb.

“We need a map.” Huey grumbled.

Dewey pressed his head against the door. “We need to get into the vents.” He pulled away from the door.

“Are they-?”

“I think so.” Dewey ran to the center of the room, looking around for a vent cover.

“None are in here.” Louie concluded. 

“To the next room, then.” Dewey announced, thankfully quiet. 

The triplets stepped into a bland room. “Need a map…” Huey mumbled to himself, quickly heading into another room.

Dewey searched the walls and ceilings but found nothing.

Just before the two younger triplets moved on, they heard Huey make a victory sound.

Peering into the room, they say Huey gripping a previously folded paper. 

“There’s our map.” Louie strolled over to his older brother, looking down at it. “Uh…” He traced from the infirmary down to where the boys probably were. “We’re here, I think.”

Dewey observed the paper as well. He looked closely at it. “Are the blue lines the vent system?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think those are the water pipes.” Huey pointed to where the edges of the map where the blue pipes gathered together and ended. “Notice how they all come from the water pump room.”

“Oh.” Dewey blinked.

“The yellow lines are probably the power.”

“Then where’s the vent shaft?”

Louie hummed. “Maybe there isn’t one.”

“No, there is.” Huey interjected. “There was a small floor vent somewhere.” He saw Dewey’s eyes light up. “It’s not big enough for us to fit in.”

Dewey deflated.

Louie looked harder at the map. “Where’s the exit? Nowhere is there a door that leads outside.”

“What if we’re underground?” Dewey suggested.

Huey took the idea into consideration. “There aren’t any windows so it’s plausible…”

“Would that mean the exit could be anywhere?” Louie studied the paper further.

“We could also be in a multi-floored building with no windows. There could be stairs out or an elevator out.” The red-clad one stated.

“Please be an elevator.” Louie quietly said. He blinked a few times, his vision clouding by the teeniest bit. “Fuck,” He hissed, holding his head.

“Lou, you ‘kay?” Dewey was quick to let his brother lean on him if needed. 

Louie nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Huey had his doubts, however. “No, he’s not.” Huey handed the map to Dewey, then went to look at Louie’s back. “God…” Huey gingerly touched Louie's back. “Your hoodie’s getting soaked.”

“Great.” Louie mumbled. “Let’s find this elevator or these stairs, boys.” He pushed himself away from his brothers, ignoring their concerned expressions.

“Louie, I don’t think you should be moving.” Huey firmly stated.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” The youngest one tried to ignore the pain. 

“I can piggyback him.” Dewey offered.

His brothers spoke as if Louie couldn’t hear them.

“I’m _fine_.” Louie reaffirmed. He moved to the door and peered out, seeing no one. “It’s good.”

Dewey and Huey shared a look. Louie pretended like he didn’t see it.

The Duck boys carried on, using the map as a way to try and get out of wherever the hell they were.

“I’m tempted to just bust down this wall.” Dewey said at one point, his hand running against the wooden wall.

“Don’t. You’ll just attract noise to us.” Huey scolded. “Besides, we don’t even know if that’ll get us out.”

“You got a better idea, _Hubert_?” 

Huey frowned. 

“Exactly.” 

Louie stared down at the map, all the words and colors becoming a jumbled mess. He was getting dizzier and dizzier by the second. 

But it wasn’t like he was going to let his brothers know.

Forcing himself to focus, Louie managed to see a supply closet. “There’s a supply closet down the hall.”

“And we’d need that, why?” Dewey asked.

“Somewhere to hide.” Louie shrugged. Or, tried to. “And there might be a vent system.”

“We already established we don’t need the vent system.” Huey huffed.

“Traveling through the vent could be less dangerous. We don’t know who’s down here.”

“I agree with Louie.” Dewey piped up.

“Only because you want to go through the vents.”

“But he brings up a valid point! It’s safer!”

“Not from diseases, it isn’t!”

“Stop arguing.” Louie said, though quietly as his vision blackened even more. 

After still hearing their bickering for another minute, Louie had had enough. “STOP FUCKING FIGHTING!”

The other two quieted immediately. 

“Thank you! Now, can we please get a move on? Those guys probably heard me shout.”

Huey and Dewey looked at their younger brother worriedly. 

The eldest looked at the map one last time. “To the closet we go.”

Dewey looked at him in mild surprise. “Y-Yeah.” 

Both of their gazes lingered on Louie for a second before they started speed-walking to the closet Louie had pointed out earlier.

Huey was the first to get to it, twisting the knob, only to find it locked. “Ah, phooey.”

“I got the keys.” The schemer sorted through the ring of keys, trying to find the one with the same numbers as the closet door. 

He sped up when he heard footsteps in the distance. “Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit-”

Finally, he found the right one and slammed it into the lock. Once the door was open, the three piled in, Huey lightly closing the door behind them. He locked it and turned to his brothers, an order to stay silent being made with a single finger to his beak.

The triplets heard footsteps and saw feet moving under the door. All three of them held their breath, hoping the people didn’t bother to try to check the closet.

Soon, the feet disappeared and the steps faded away.

Huey let out a relieved sigh. He never really liked sneaking around. Behind him, he heard the sound of metal moving. He turned, seeing Dewey standing on an unstable tower of boxes while lifting the metal cover of the vents. 

Huey didn’t like the idea of the duct system, but they didn’t have that much of a choice. 

He looked over at his younger brother who was leaning on the wall. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Dewey climbed down from his makeshift tower. “You look really pale.” He pointed out.

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’ve been saying that…”

“Because it’s true.” Louie huffed, beads of sweat beginning to drip down his face.

Huey studied his brother. “No, you’re not fine.” Quickly, he climbed up the boxes and lifted himself into the vent system. “Dew, get him up here.”

Dewey nodded, putting his hands on the youngest to help him up. 

“I’m fucking fine!” He tried to push away.

Dewey wouldn’t let him. He led his brother over to where Huey was reaching out and lifted Louie onto his shoulders. Huey pulled his brother in, who had cussed in pain, before lifting Dewey in.

“Alright, we’re in.” Huey breathed. “Where now?”

“We just start moving.” Dewey began to crawl. 

Huey wanted to protest, but found he couldn’t. Moving now meant less suffering for Louie later.

“You first.” Huey ordered. 

“Alright,” Louie sighed, squeezing past his older sibling. 

The three navigated through the vents, stopping occasionally when someone was below them and being extremely careful when going over the coverings. It was obvious to the two older boys that Louie was in pain and was struggling, but there unfortunately wasn’t anything they could do at the moment.

At a couple points, they’d gone up a ramp, meaning that there probably were a few levels.

Soon though, they found themself endlessly crawling through one level.

“Are we making _any_ progress?” Huey had asked at one point.

“I don’t know.” Dewey answered. 

“Ugh, this is fucking hopeless.” Louie’s hands curled into fists. “We’re gonna fucking die here in this shithole and no one in our family is going to know where the fuck we are! And to make it even better, my back feels like it’s on fucking fire! Can we do anything about that? Nope! Because we can’t get out of here. It’s impossible! We’re fucked!” 

Dewey gawked at Louie for a moment. “Wow. Yeah, it is bad.”

“Fuck off.”

“I wish I could.” Dewey put a hand on Louie’s shoulder. “Maybe we should get out of the vents?”

“No.” Huey disagreed. “It… we clearly went up. We gotta be close to the exit.”

“And what if we can’t get out from the vents?” Dewey argued back.

“Then we get there when we get there, but until-”

“Shut the fuck up, both of you!” Louie interceded. “If I have to listen to another one of your shitty arguments, I’ll feed you a fucking bear.”

“You really love ‘fuck’, huh?” Dewey smiled slightly, clearly hesitant on saying the forbidden ‘f’ word.

“It’s my stress word, leave me alone.”

“You need to get a new stress word.” Huey offhandedly said.

“Fuck you.”

The boys shared a smile.

“Well, continuing this way seems like the best way.” Dewey turned.

They continued through the vents until they hit a dead end. 

“That’s the end, boys.” Dewey twisted around.

“It’s cold.” Huey whined.

“It’s been cold.” Louie shot back.

“No, it hasn’t.” Dewey cautiously said.

“Maybe that’s a symptom of blood loss.” Louie quipped.

Huey and Dewey’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, I forgot about that.” Huey whispered.

“Wow, I feel so loved.”

Huey shook his head. “Okay, let’s exit from the closest cover,” He began backtracking.

Lifting the cover, Huey peered down. The halls were definitely different from the ones a few floors down. He dropped down, arms out to catch Louie.

Louie dropped as well, landing on his feet but needing Huey to stabilize him. Dewey was last, landing with no difficulty whatsoever.

“Oh look, windows.” Louie stared at the glass at the end of the hall.

“The sun!” Dewey ran down the hall, pressing himself against the glass. “The sky! Oh, how I missed you!”

“Dewey!” Huey hissed. “Get back here! We don’t know who’s up here!”

The middle child didn’t listen, instead loving the view of the outside.

“Might as well look.” Louie said to Huey, who reluctantly agreed. 

Looking out, they were able to see that they were in some building in a city they hadn’t recognized. 

Well, Huey and Dewey didn’t.

“We’re in Dawson.” Louie said.

“Where?”

“Dawson. It’s where Goldie lives.” Louie noticed the looks he was given. “What? I’m, like, her unofficial on-and-off again business partner. Had to know where she lived.”

“So you know what house she lives in?” Huey asked.

“Yeah.” Louie realized what he was saying. “Oh, yeah. She might not be there, though.”

“So?” Dewey took hold of both of his brother’s shoulders. “It’s better than being here!”

“Speaking of that,” Huey pulled himself away from the others. “We should probably get out of here so Louie doesn’t die of blood loss.”

“Right!” Without warning, Dewey hoisted Louie onto his back.

“Woah, what?!”

Dewey began to trot down the hall, Louie clinging onto him like his life depended on it. “Let’s find the exit, my brothers!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the Dewey chapter but it just,,, _wasn't_  
>  They come back Monday!!


End file.
